


the one who shines with you

by ifweshadows



Category: Oasis (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Collars, Fluff, Handcuffs, M/M, Sibling Incest, Spit As Lube, a belt as a collar, a lil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 11:58:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15684990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifweshadows/pseuds/ifweshadows
Summary: Hold me down, all the world's asleep





	the one who shines with you

**Author's Note:**

> disowned my other fic cuz i hate it now lol

Liam’s got a fucking itch. 

Worst thing is – it ain’t one he can scratch, and even if he could fucking reach it, there’s a lovely added bonus that he can’t move. His hands are awkwardly clamped together, held unforgivingly above his head by the merciless metal clasped around both of his wrists.  

The blood’s long since escaped down his fingers, past his palms and settled lowly below, leaving the skin around his arms (and face, and cock, but that’s mostly unrelated. Mostly.) flushed a pretty, desperate red. The sensation of it is less than agreeable, but fuck it, he’s done less agreeable things than this for Noel before.  

Speaking of annoying bastards that never fuck off, the itch on his back is now reaching levels of grating that make him groan under his breath and kick his feet against the mattress like the little kid Noel always makes him out to be. The thought of proving Noel right about this serves to quickly halt Liam’s annoyed outbursts – no more irritated growls or stomping feet tonight, no way – and it also serves to contradict itself entirely by making Liam even more annoyed in the end, anyway.  

So fuck it, he lets out another strangled and annoyed groan (under his breath, lest anyone wander past the hotel room and hear. God, he’d end up caught handcuffed to the headboard, leaking cock erect against his bare stomach, hickeys bruised lovingly down his neck and torso. What would he even say?  _It’s just a hobby,_  he hears his cocky, flippant words in the Sun already, w _hen I’m not shagging my brother or doing lines off public toilet seats, I do enjoy an evening of forcibly tying myself to inanimate objects for my own pleasure._  The biggest trendsetter of the 90s, he is, and he can bet that every young lad from the lifeless, gentrified areas of the UK will be cuffing themselves to radiators for hours on end, kicking their feet like a little kid too. Only a matter of time.) 

But, fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it?), no one’s footsteps can be heard outside the door, moving, paused or otherwise. A bloody good thing too, ‘cause this ain’t the first time Liam’s been left here like this but it certainly  _would be_  the last. Unless Noel made him do it again. Which – yeah. 

The minutes have been steadily ticking by without Liam’s notice as he stays wrapped up in his own head, distracting himself from the elephant in the room. And an elephant it fucking is. The arousal that heats up his lower body, his upper body as well, in fact – fuck it, yeah, his entire body’s arousal. He’s still trembling and heaving with shallow breaths which leave his mouth in ragged, low gasps. All blessed side effects of the hard, wet cock of his that’s stood up against his skin despite it being over two hours since Noel’d left.  

Despite himself, the thought of him makes his cock twitch – being left here for so long, entirely at Noel’s disposal. Completely owned, something to be pulled out and used only when Noel feels like it. Fully defenseless against the unlocked door that stands between him and everyone else out there. 

His pulse picks up and another groan escapes his bitten red lips. He can’t help thinking about it, imagining it – when Noel will come back, when he’ll open the door not even using a fucking key ‘cause he doesn’t care even that much, when he’ll stride into the room with his eyes dark, stuck to Liam’s naked, trembling body like he has any right to stare, even though he does, every right possible (he did this), he’ll stop himself darting over to Liam and ruining the fun of it, stop and lean against the wall, in the shadows with his eyes gleaming in the dark, and he’ll growl a few choice words, maybe he’ll talk about how fucking pretty you look like that, in his deep, rough voice, oh fuck. Or he’ll look at the bites he’s left all over and enjoy how thoroughly claimed and owned you look and he’ll say to himself, like it’s a passing thought, that he should _use you more often._   

 _Fuck._ His cock’s now unfairly hard and it’s driving him mental. He needs Noel back. His eyes clench shut and he strains against his constraints, weakly pulling, but it’s futile because the only person capable of getting him  _out of these fucking things_  and getting him  _off_  isn’t fucking  _here_. 

Then – like a gift, sent by God (but also probably not, for obvious reasons, he quite dazedly thinks) his eyes flick to the turning doorknob, drawn by the movement and the sound, the quiet scrape. His heart simultaneously leaps in his throat and pounds loudly in his chest, elevated heartbeat telegraphing the momentary fear,  _what if it’s not him? The Sun better enjoy this_ , but then his ears pick up the subdued albeit climactic  _ker-chunk_ sound as the door’s latch fully unlocks and finally, blessedly he can see Noel. 

He’s not drunk, but he looks like he’d been getting a bit tipsy, maybe. Liam’s fine with it, doesn’t care, couldn’t give less of a shit about any one of them’s intoxicated fucking states, not when Noel’s stepping past the threshold and quietly shutting the door behind him, eyes never leaving Liam’s prone form. 

And God, what a form. Liam’s got a slick sheen of sweat across his forehead and his delicate collarbones, trailing down his sternum, making his pale skin look like it’s fucking glowing from where the soft light of the lamp hits it. The white-cream of the walls and the white of the tussled bedcovers don’t perfectly match the wonderful paleness of his skin, all of it on show as it is, but the artistic beauty of it can be greatly appreciated, and it will be appreciated all fucking night long if either of them have anything to say about it.  

Adorably, his hair’s a brown darker than usual ‘cause of the perspiration, stuck to his forehead in places. And across his torso, the loving bruises that’d been left there barely a couple of hours prior have lessened in severity slightly but have the same loaded, possessive weight nevertheless, and his cock’s right where Noel’d left it – achingly hard, dripping profusely, artfully arching against Liam’s stomach.  

Liam looks fucking wrecked. He feels wrecked too, no doubt, if his face is anything to go by. Mouth fallen open, pink tongue exposed, pretty eyes almost shut but not quite, fixed on where Noel is stood unmoving and watching him. 

After a moment of keeping Liam waiting, even though he’s just spent hours doing just that and torturously so, the cunt, Noel’s hands appear from where they’d been behind his back, clutching the doorknob tightly behind him in a hidden and rare display of how much the sight had hit him, something Liam will never really understand the whole extent of. They hang at his sides loosely in a false presentation of casualness. Like the atmosphere isn’t coated and dripping with anticipation, the very air not hot, the lack of actual contact between them not alight, intense and sizzling, like the only sounds heard aren’t Liam’s little gasping breaths and Noel’s eyes aren’t glued to the sticky, glistening trail of pre-come left on Liam’s skin. 

Slowly, like he doesn’t want to break the pregnant atmosphere, Noel moves forward, steps slow but purposeful. He approaches the bed. It sits against the wall, near the window, opposite the door, and Liam is spread out on it, long limbs twitching and arms straining, held up above his head. He can see the red indents the metal cuffs have given to the thin skin of Liam’s wrists. It stirs something in him to see it.  

He stops when he reaches the foot of the bed and continues to stare. Liam’s whole body is strained against the constraints, like he wants to be closer, needs it like breathing. Noel wouldn’t doubt it.  

Liam can feel Noel’s gaze on him like it’s fucking physical. It’s like being struck. After so long left by himself, in his own company with nothing but his torturous thoughts of this exact moment and his aching cock, the reality of it hits him harder than he thought it would. Maybe harder than the other times they’d done this, but then Noel’d been gone for less time, and Liam’s been waiting for so fucking long.  

Finally, Liam spits, “You didn’t even fuckin’ lock the door.” 

Noel’s eyes glitter with something like mirth. Liam likes it more than he should. 

“No one was gonna come in. They’re all downstairs,” Noel says like it’s obvious. It’s also where Liam should’ve been, too. He knows his absence was obvious and he’ll have to bear the brunt of questioning bandmates tomorrow, but for now... 

“You gonna come over here, then? Or just fucking stare with your mouth open?” Liam shoots his brother a glare before sending a pointed look down at his own body, laid out and exposed, waiting. 

Noel looks for a second longer (probably taking the time to commit the sight to memory so he can write adoring love songs about it later, Liam guesses) before joining him on the bed, jean-clad right knee first, then he’s crawling across the large bed. His t-shirt's quite tight and Liam’s eyes catch on the strain of Noel’s biceps as he puts all his weight on his arms, holding himself up, and his hands...  

He looks up when Noel’s finally next to him, Noel stopping himself from covering Liam’s entire body with his and settling for sitting up next to him and using his right arm to lean over his little brother, his right hand holding onto the metal, barred headboard. The hand is agonisingly close to Liam’s, the gap not even an inch in length. Liam’s skin fucking tingles electrically with the proximity, the idea of touch almost seeming foreign it’s been withheld from him for so long. He inadvertently gives a small whimper and it appears to snap Noel out of a stupor. 

“You’ve been waiting just here, all for me, eh?” he asks, face close to Liam’s and expression teasing, then, but with an exciting amount of heat behind it. Behind his dark eyes, and the slow, sensual curve of his lips when he speaks, and the way his unoccupied left hand slowly trails its way across the mattress, nearing Liam’s thighs. Liam’s eyes are drawn to it, pulling his knees up and bending his legs closer to his body unconsciously in response, almost forgetting to even reply. Noel doesn’t even spare his movement a glance and keeps a laser-like focus on Liam’s face. 

“Said I would, didn’t I?” he manages to reply, dragging his eyes from Noel’s thick fingers to make eye contact.  

Noel shrugs a shoulder noncommittally.  

“I dunno.” he says, tone light. Then his tone darkens considerably: “Guess I should’ve known you’d do just what I said.” 

Liam, for once, keeps his mouth tightly shut, because Noel’s right. But a flush begins to grace his cheeks, reddening the skin cutely. Noel takes it as a response in itself. A wordless confirmation. This alone is enough to fill Noel with satisfaction – the sensuous curve of his lips slips into smirk territory, making the flush on Liam’s face only redden further. He wants to coo when he sees it. He wants to make Liam’s entire body light up with that hot flush. He leans forward, speaking into his brother’s ear: 

“I knew you’d be a good boy.” 

Noel’s fingers begin to trail across the surface of Liam’s thigh, brushing just barely. Even that small touch makes Liam react. His leg twitches and he shuts his eyes, shielding himself from Noel’s intense and unmoving focus. As much as he craves it, constantly, being given Noel’s attention in such copious amounts and with so little shame or reserve always throws Liam at first.  

“Look at that,” Noel murmurs under his breath, husky. “Responsive, aren’t you? I take it you didn’t manage to touch yourself at all, while I was gone?” 

Liam’s arms are starting to strain to uncomfortable levels over his head. But the feeling only adds to the onslaught of sensations that Noel is successful in giving him – it is the reason why Liam’s so unsatisfied with anyone or anything else, and the reason why he allows Noel to get away with so much that others can’t - the feeling between his legs, the unwavering devotion in his heart and the unrelenting, addictive pain of it all. 

He manages to shake his head no to Noel’s question. “No.” 

“Fucking hell,” Noel huffs out a laugh that sounds incredulous. Liam’s head snaps up and he glares. 

“Fuck are you laughing at?” 

“Just- you’re so _desperate._ ” 

There is an undeniable truth to the statement that makes Liam’s glare increase in its fiery intensity. The combination of this display of Liam’s character with the vulnerable position he’s trapped in makes Noel’s neglected and aching cock twitch inside his jeans.  

As if drawn to it, Liam’s eyes flick down, then back up.  

“Let me out of these, and I’ll suck you off,” he bargains, shucking his wrists where they are held up and cuffed. 

“No,” Noel’s lips curve into another smirk, adding: “But I’m holding you to that.” 

“Why not?” Liam pouts. The more he thinks about it, mulling the idea over in his head quickly, the more sucking Noel off starts to appeal. Not to mention the relief from the fucking cuffs. But, also, Noel’s cock... Probably fully hard, Liam bets it is. He bets it’s dripping and red. It’s probably all wet and full and waiting for his mouth, and Liam knows he’d be so good with it, he’d treat it so well, make sure he was good. Hold it in his mouth, keep it warm, he’d hum just like Noel likes, he’d even let Noel be forceful and choke him with it, make him gag, like he’s nothing unless he’s being used for Noel’s pleasure. He’d make it good. He bets Noel wants it. 

There’s something Noel wants more, though.  

“Because I have something I wanna do first.”  

Immediately, Liam’s mood perks and his eyes sparkle with curiosity.  

“Really? You got something for me?” 

There’s a childlike inflection to his voice that takes Noel back a few years, back to scabby knees and milk teeth. It makes his heart ache curiously. Unable to deal with the emotion, unnamed as it is, Noel simply gives his brother another smile, a real one this time, lifting his left hand from Liam’s thigh to cup his cheek gently, just for a second. His thumb swipes over Liam’s flushed cheekbone, reverent, but only for a second. His hand falls and he removes himself from the bed. 

“Give us a minute,” he answers distractedly, getting up and dropping to the floor to root around in one of the open suitcases.  

His belongings lay strewn about in the vicinity of the case, an epicenter for the mess that usually collects whenever Noel travels or tours. Liam, used to it, hardly blinks from where he’s craning his head excitedly to see what Noel’s doing when Noel carelessly chucks a shirt across the room in his haste to find whatever it is.

He’s gone for a matter of seconds but Liam feels his absence (the skin of his thigh and his cheek seem to be embarrassingly hotter than the rest of him, burning for Noel’s touch). Then, from his admittedly limited view on the bed, Liam sees Noel nod and hears him make a pleased ‘aha’ noise from where he’s crouched on the carpeted floor surrounded by clothes and other items. His head lifts from the case and Liam can see an item held in his hand, but he’s distracted by the curve of Noel’s arse as he stands up. _Oh well, I’ll see whatever it is anyway_ , he says to himself, eyes roaming across Noel’s body as he approaches the bed with the item hidden behind his back.  

His curiosity piques then, along with the low hum of arousal, anticipation and happiness that heightens when Noel comes near him, but that’s customary at this point, so it goes mostly ignored.  

“What is it?” Liam demands. “Show me.”  

Noel returns to his side and complies, which usually means Liam might not like whatever’s going to happen next. However...

“A belt?” Liam says. ”What -”  

“As a collar,” Noel says roughly. “I want you to wear it.” 

His hands are still fucking tied above his head, but if they weren’t, Liam would be self-consciously tracing the skin of his neck with his fingers. Noel must see it in his face somehow and he reaches up to configure with the code mechanism that allows him to unlock the cuffs. They’re off with a click and Liam rubs his wrists with his hands distantly, feeling the throbbing blood flow return, but he’s focused entirely on the leather belt Noel is holding. 

It’s not particularly... _foreboding_ of an item, for a belt. It’s simple black leather. Quite thin and old, by the looks of it, with a relatively average sized silver buckle. Noel’s twisting it around in his hands (he’d think it a nervous gesture, but his brother’s eyes are full of fire, full of desire and stubborn longing, ‘ _I want you to wear it_ ’ was not posed as a question). On the inside it says ‘ _Handmade Genuine Italian_ ’ in small text and the material’s a tiny bit scratchier. 

He’s been looking at the belt – the _collar_ for less than half a minute, but Noel’s impatient. 

“Wear it,” Noel says.  

“Bloody hell, Noel,” Liam looks at the belt again and its form and function has changed. He pictures it wrapped around his neck. He imagines that Noel is unforgiving and has tightened it just so. Thinks about how it feels with Noel’s strong hand wrapped around his neck, how it would feel with the belt. And his hand. And with Noel on him, _in_ him. Heat starts to rise, making his cock twitch, and he can’t say no. 

“I’ll put it on you,” Noel demands. Liam can tell he’s worked himself up over this and, like always, he feels the desire to just please him, keep him around. He tilts his head up, baring his neck. 

Noel likes the sight of it – again, Liam showing a weakness, especially in this context usually gets Noel going, but the particular sight of this, is another thing. Liam still looks as submissive and demure as he did when Noel’d walked in, when he’d begged to suck him off, but the long, pale column of his throat bared seems a particular brand of obscene that he hadn’t been prepared for. He swallows roughly, enjoying the sight of the bites placed exactly where he’d wanted. Where people can see. 

“Come on, you cunt. Just put it on.” Liam urges.  

Noel wraps it behind his neck, sliding the end of it through the buckle and then pulling it tight. It’s easy to hold the long end of the belt with one hand in order to stop it from loosening around Liam’s neck, but Noel spares a few seconds to carefully puncture a hole through the material so it fits better, doing it very roughly with the sharp pointed part of the buckle. It’s better, he can have both hands free, and all it takes is a tug of the long end to instantly have Liam’s attention focused solely on him. Actually, it looks better than he thought it would when the idea had tentatively appeared in his head. Noel’s certain there are places you can buy proper, expensive collars that can be engraved, even. But he likes the look of this for now – enjoys the stark juxtaposition of the fragile skin of Liam’s neck next to the unforgiving black that wraps around it so nicely. Heat rushes through him immediately at the sight, and if he looks down between them, he can see Liam’s enjoying it as well.  

“Noel,” Liam exhales breathlessly when their eyes meet. Noel almost can’t believe it, he looks fucking perfect, so fucking pretty. 

Noel smiles and tightens it by pulling slightly. Liam’s eyes widen and his hand rises to grab Noel’s bicep, still clothed in stark contrast to Liam’s bare skin all over. His blunt fingernails dig into the skin of his arm.  

“ _Noel,_ ” he repeats himself.  

“What is it, baby?” Noel murmurs. “Like it, don’t you?”  

He watches Liam swallow before he replies, his nodding erratic. 

“Yeah. But I want -” 

“What do you want, Liam?” 

“I want- I want your fucking--” 

“Come on, spit it out. Haven’t got all day. Some of us have got other things to do besides sitting around in bed.”  

A bolt of irritation makes Liam send Noel a glare, petulant, but Noel simply grins and lifts up his free hand to splay across the skin on Liam’s neck that’s not covered by the belt. His fingers dig in, hard, making little half-moon dents with his fingernails that come up red. Liam’s eyes snap shut and he lets out a moan. 

“You like it now, don’t you?”  

Noel’s grip relents slightly but he keeps a low pressure on Liam’s neck. His other hand releases the end of the belt and finds itself on the pale, soft skin of his brother’s sternum, following the line of his rib cage, dragging his fingers downwards torturously, turning Liam’s moans into choked off gasps. His fingers reach the soft skin of his lower stomach where they meet the small trail of pre-come that’s been steadily gathering the harder Liam gets. Now, his cock is an angry red colour that’s screaming for Noel’s attention. Its wetness is beading at the tip, and Noel can’t resist, taking his pre-come slick fingers and lifting them to Liam’s mouth.

“Open,” he orders and Liam obeys without question, eagerly opening his mouth with a groan and letting Noel’s fingers slip past his plush, thick lips. They glisten in the light and are a pretty red, begging to be bitten. Noel swears under his breath at the sight, the feeling of Liam’s hot tongue and the warmth of his mouth, throwing his mind back to when Liam wanted so badly to have Noel’s cock. 

“Hurry up. Get them wet.”  

Liam moans desperately at the words and his eyes open slightly, holding eye contact with Noel as he takes his fingers like he’s gagging for it. Noel swears, ‘ _fucking hell_ ’ under his breath again, near holding back moans himself, instead tightening the hand he has clasped around Liam’s neck and focusing on holding Liam down as much as he can. Trying to hold back the feeling of uncontrollable lust.  

“You can do better than that, Liam, I’ve seen it,” Noel rumbles and tightens the grip he has on Liam’s neck until he’s not entirely certain that Liam won’t walk away with bruises. Liam whimpers and he relaxes slightly, stroking the side of Liam’s neck with his thumb. Liam’s tongue lathers Noel’s fingers until they’re even wetter, and then Noel pulls them out, tilting Liam’s head back with his other hand as he does so. Liam’s eyes open and he gasps roughly watching Noel as Noel watches his own hand lift out of his brother’s mouth, a line of saliva following his fingers.  

“Noel. I ain’t -” He has to swallow and collect himself, eyes flickering between Noel’s face and the fingers that are held above his mouth, waiting to be let inside that heat again. 

“What, sweetheart?” Noel murmurs.  

Liam feels his hands tighten, wanting to curve his fingers into a fist when he hears the endearment. It makes an odd feeling lodge itself firmly into his chest, like something caught down his throat. Like a sob. 

“Can you fuck me?” he asks the question in what was supposed to be a demand _‘Fuck me already!’_ but was promptly stripped to nothing but a plea due to Noel’s rough, calm voice and his sweethearts, his kindness. Liam always forgets to fight. 

Noel’s fingers continue stroking the curve of his neck where they hold it, still adding slight pressure. He appears to deliberate over Liam’s asking.  

“I want you to suck me first.” Noel tips up his brother’s chin where it lowers after Liam’s eyes automatically fall down to the obvious tent in Noel’s jeans. Heat fills Liam’s gaze. 

“On your knees, then,” Noel growls. 

Quick to comply, Liam moves off the bed (feeling slightly disoriented for a second, after being down for so long, but his intent and focus don’t change). He drops to his knees on the carpet near to some of the items of clothing Noel’d carelessly chucked about earlier. The collar feels hot, unfamiliar and heavy against the vulnerable skin on his neck but the obvious appreciation Noel has for it (not to mention the massive tent in his jeans) makes it hard to dislike the feeling of it completely. In fact, it’s growing on him by the second. 

Noel sits on the edge of the bed, shuffling closer to the edge as Liam moves in between his spread legs. He sends his older brother some heated looks as he watches Noel takes in his submissive position, his wide eyes, the collar wrapped around his neck... 

He spends some time, first, feeling the heat of it through the fabric, with his hands, with his tongue. He rubs his face against it through the denim, moaning, while Noel’s breaths deepen and his hands curl where they’re bedded into the sheets at his sides. Then there’s the sound of a zipper, and the momentary rustling sound of fabric discarded to the floor (Noel lifting his hips to get it done) and then finally skin-on-skin relief.  

Lifting a hand to curl into Liam’s unruly hair, he sees his brother’s pupils dilate and his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Liam wraps his hand around it and gives his cock a few slow strokes, seemingly testing the waters, which increase in speed quickly as Noel groans deeply at the feeling. 

“Good. S’good,” Noel encourages.  

Liam nods and leans forward, and then Noel lets out a louder groan as the feeling of Liam tonguing the head washes over him. He gives it tiny kitten licks at first, likely enjoying the taste of pre-come that weeps out at a steady pace due to Noel’s unfaltering arousal, letting out tiny moans of pleasure as he keeps his tongue busy for a few seconds. Then he swallows it fully. 

The heavy weight of cock on his tongue is something he always forgets he finds great pleasure in. Greedily, he starts to take in more, going deeper, letting more glide in. Noel sucks in a breath, letting out a quiet ‘fuck’. Up and down, over and over, swirling tongue and wet friction. He pulls off and tongues the underside, tracing the thick of it with his hot mouth. Noel watches with lust blown, wide eyes, chest wracked with heavy breaths and body awash with pleasure. 

“Yeah, yeah. Good, darling.” he slurs. “Your _mouth..._ ” 

Liam all but preens with the praise. He feels satisfaction dance in his mind and he tightens his lips further in response, wanting to hear more. He hollows his mouth and curls his tongue along the shaft like Noel’s cock is nothing but a delicacy. Little choked off, frantic noises erupt from his throat, driving Noel crazy, and he wants nothing more than to hear Liam gag and see his pretty lashes get all wet.  

Liam pulls off a little and flattens his tongue against the head, lifting a hand to quickly stroke Noel off while he laps at the pre-come that pearls at the slit. Noel finds himself rapidly approaching his climax. He doesn’t want to finish yet, doesn’t wanna come in Liam’s mouth and finish too early, he knows it could get better so he pushes at Liam’s shoulder with a hand. 

His brother dazedly blinks up at him from the floor, cock slipping out his mouth and past his lips with an obscene wet sound.  

“Come on. I’m fucking you now,” Noel says in a rough voice. He hauls Liam up from the floor under his arms and quickly guides him back on the bed, shoving a bit.  

“Yeah, c’mon. Fucking been waiting.” Liam says, voice tinged with anticipation and heated lust. He falls back on the bed and, when Noel follows (after taking a second to rid himself of his t-shirt), leans up to kiss him. Noel makes a small sound of surprise when their mouths crash together but kisses back with equal fervor. 

Then, after a minute of frenzied, passionate kissing that manages to make Noel even harder, he pulls away to speak, 

“Turn over, on your front.” 

Liam nods breathlessly. He’s pliant in a way that is so inconsistent with his usual behaviour, which only serves to make a soft glow of pride start in Noel’s chest. He watches his brother turn over onto all fours, leaning on his arms. Noel’s unable to resist his undeniable lure and moves to press flush against him. 

Suddenly Liam can feel pressure against his hole and he sucks in a breath. He freezes a little at the feel of Noel’s spit-covered fingers tracing the most sensitive part of his body. They’d done it before, countless times over the years, and he’d been doing it to himself even before that (having Noel attend to him was entirely different, though. Better). Noel never fucks about, he goes slowly but firmly because he knows Liam enjoys the sudden feeling of fullness that comes with Noel’s finger entering him up to the knuckle.

As usual, the slight pain subsides quickly after Noel spits some more. Liam can’t seem to fully draw in a proper breath as he focuses on the feeling of Noel’s slick fingers in and out, and the feel of hot breath against the back of his neck, his cock twitching. Then he feels the stretch as a second finger joins the first, sliding in with little resistance. Liam begins to move without really thinking, rocking back on Noel’s fingers. 

He gasps as Noel scissors and rotates his fingers, touching a place inside of him that makes Liam feel like he’s on fire. His body feels heavy and his cock’s dripping with pre-come, and he knows that if Noel doesn’t fucking get inside him soon then he’d fucking spill everywhere and the entire evening’s events would be for nothing. 

“Noel, come on. Come _on,_ you- you fuckin’- _fuck_ me, I want you _in_ \--” 

Suddenly, his world turns and he’s flipped over. He can see Noel’s face again and its strangely gratifying. His darkened, lust-blown eyes, the slight flush, his bitten lips and the way he runs his heady gaze over Liam’s whole body as its revealed to him again. They both bend to kiss each other and meet in the middle. Liam sucks on Noel’s tongue and moves a hand to wrap around Noel’s thick cock.

Their mouths are gentle with each other (uncommon, but still quite brilliant, Liam thinks, but kissing Noel is rarely anything less). His brain is hardly online as he feels Noel move them so that he’s sitting on Noel’s lap, with his hands on his brother’s shoulders as Noel leans back against the headboard. He feels himself being lifted, distantly, feels Noel’s cock being lined up with his hole. He can’t help but shiver when it bumps against his sensitive, wet skin. 

Slowly, Liam lowers himself, watching Noel as he does so. His brother’s eyes shut and his mouth drops open in a silent groan as the thick head of his cock breaches Liam and the ring of muscle clenches automatically, then relaxes. The hot, fiery lust that Liam had felt previously returns as a full body tremble. 

“O-open your eyes,” Liam demands, needing to see Noel properly, wanting that intimacy. 

Noel agrees, wants it too. _Just in a minute,_ he thinks, as Liam slides down another inch. Finally, he manages to open his eyes with lids that feel like they’re being weighed down. Their eyes meet instantly and Noel’s fingers find themselves brushing against Liam’s face, sliding against sweat-slick skin like he’s finally indulging in his right to touch. (He can’t really do this at any other time, can he, cradle Liam’s head in his hands like it's everything.) 

It doesn’t really hurt, not exactly. It just feels so _full._  He feels the gradual slide as he’s fed inch after inch of cock until he’s fully seated. Noel’s fingers move from his face and tremble as they slide over Liam’s slick chest. His blunt nails brush over pebbled nipples as Noel gives him a minute, knows Liam needs to adjust. Then they find Liam’s cock and a high moan leaves Liam’s throat, unbidden and breathy. He leans forward and inadvertently shifts the angle of Noel’s cock, inside. He rises up a bit, then back down, wincing a little at the usual, overwhelming fullness and the stretch. 

Noel’s hands find Liam's hips and his grip tightens as he moves. Liam bites his lip and feels himself clench down and hears Noel groan lowly as he lifts Liam up, before he slides down, again and again, and then Noel’s thick shaft moves against the delicate nerves inside of him, making Liam cry out loudly, lost in the sensation of the slick sliding of skin.  

He watches as Noel watches him, seeing his brother’s eyes flick between Liam’s eyes, then down at his cock that twitches between them, how he’s buried inside, the leather wrapped around Liam’s throat. At the sight of it Noel lets out a growl and finally thrusts up, hitting Liam’s prostate directly and making him whine and grip Noel’s shoulders tightly, his mouth dropping open.

And then he does it again, over and over, causing breathless moans to tumble out of his mouth. Noel enjoys them immensely, they’re _his._ Liam is glistening with sweat from being held and fucked, and he can smell the scent of the two of them together, hot and _perfect._

When he begins to come, his head falls back and he freezes, letting out a long, high moan as he shoots thick lines of come onto Noel’s chest, then he feels Noel join him and he desperately clenches and milks his cock for every last bit. He collapses a little as Noel holds him and feels bruises get kissed onto the skin of his hips when Noel’s coming with a moan, Liam’s name falling from his lips gloriously.  

Both of them do nothing but lay there for a minute. Liam is focusing mainly on the erratic beat of Noel’s heart as it slows. Then he’s roused enough to press a lazy kiss on Noel’s lips, as his brother’s hands slide past his hips and slide over his back, pulling him closer. He can feel the vibration of Noel’s voice when he speaks, 

“Even now, you’re full of me. _Dripping,_ like. And I still wanna keep you here and make you mine again, somehow.” 

Liam swallows and his heart clenches happily in his chest. 

“Think you’ve done that already.” he replies quietly.  

Noel is almost petting him now, one hand tangled in Liam’s sweaty hair, groaning lowly as he stretches his legs out under Liam. Liam is still wanting to hear and feel the beat of Noel’s heart in his chest, ‘cause it’s something he doesn’t get often after they've done this, the quiet closeness, because Noel is gone as soon as possible. (This time won't be any different, nor will the _next_ time, but Liam will still want it.) 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> :_)


End file.
